


Silver (vibrator) Bullet

by nothing_left_sacred



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amateur Pornography, Crossdressing, Crying, Feminization, First Time, Gags, Knotting, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Mating, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pornography, Rimming, Scent Marking, Toys, Underage - Freeform, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_left_sacred/pseuds/nothing_left_sacred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hadn’t meant for it to become a thing. He’d just been interested in helping out his fellow man.  He certainly hadn't meant for anyone to find out about it.</p><p>Or the one where Stiles makes amateur porn, and of course, a certain alpha finds out about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ooookay, so this is about as amateur as Stiles' porn. I started off with a half-crazed fic outline, which I only vaguely edited into a full bodied story. It's not as fleshed out as it deserves to be, and I'm sorry for that, but I didn't want it to go on languishing forever unpublished.
> 
> Take the warnings seriously; this is underage pornography. Stiles is essentially selling his body for cash, which proposes elements of dub-con due to age of consent, etc etc. This isn't a darkfic, however. He's doing it for fun. I hope you read it in that light. Shameless smut, in essence, this is.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles hadn’t meant for it to become a _thing_. He’d just been interested in helping out his fellow man. Ever since he’d realised that perhaps he found the ocean to be a little larger than the pond he’d been swimming around with Lydia in, he’d decided to do some ‘research’ into gay porn. 

Stiles was thorough, what can he say? Google-fu and all that. There was little outside the reach of his fingertips, especially after how hardcore of a research nerd he’d become in the wake of his best-friends moonlit problem. 

It’d taken while, to learn himself more fully, or as fully as one could in the domain of theoretical sex. He’d found his preferred sites, learned his preferred kinks, and settled in nicely, trolling the web in his spare time (what little there was, now that he actually had an active social life - though really, could it be called a social life when the most conversation he got out of the Derek and his merry gang were growls and threats to his life?).

As one might expect, Stiles largely engaged with porn passively, but as time passed, and he grew more bold, he began to notice in the live chat feeds that littered the sites just how often people lamented there not being enough twinks with nice fucking legs around. 

Stiles couldn’t help but think;. _Legs? I have legs. Good legs, I mean. Pretty good legs, totally. I could pass as a...twink. Sure. Yeah? Yeah!_

Seriously, the boy could pull off skinny jeans like a hipster god.

So... he’d... experimented. He started off by buying vats of nair, and when his dad noticed he’d complained that all his friends had hairless upper bodies, so why not him? His dad, typically, had given him the “you look handsome despite all things” talk, which - really dad? Anyway.

Stiles liked it. A lot. Having smooth skin made him feel like a different person - and it was secretive. Not something that anyone would notice, not like dressing in drag or wearing makeup; but it made him feel like a girl. Aaaaaand apparently he had a thing for feminization; so sue him.

This _thing_ had sort of just devolved from there. He’d finally gotten the courage to post some of the amateur videos he’d taken of himself to the site he most frequented, and it had been crazy popular. 

And for the first time in his life, he, Stiles motherfucking Stilinski, was in the spotlight. For being hot. He realised just how inherently narcissistic it was to feel that way, but hells yeah, _power tripping._

It was completely insane. _People were offering to pay him money._ And Stiles didn’t exactly have the time for a part time job, not with the crazy hours he was pulling fighting supernatural crime, so he thought; why the fuck not?

So he became an amateur porn star, featuring his body from the neck down, or covering most of his features with a hood (seriously, he was paranoid, and for good reason) running his shit through so many IP bouncing systems that no one short of the FBI could find him (or possibly Danny)

At first he started off vanilla; straight edge by comparison to most of the shit on the web, except for his signature piece of equipment; a shiny red ball gag, which served the purpose of effectively keeping his stupid ass comments from ever being heard, or worse; _recorded for posterity on the internet,_ in case he dropped some sort of bomb. He went by the name _LittleRed,_ and as part of his super secret disguise, often wore a red hood that covered the top part of his face; a little piece that he’d taken out of a woman’s ‘Slutty Red Riding Hood’ Halloween costume. 

Yes, he thought he was hilarious. It was that or call himself Red Hood, and he didn’t think Jason Todd would appreciate this kind of publicity. 

The more popular he got, the more he started looking into requests, which banked more. Panties, stockings, cockrings, nipple clamps, painted nails, buttplugs. And it turns out people were willing to shell out the cash for him to pay for them. And then came the day that someone requested this dildo from an online store - one of a kind. A werewolf dick, complete with a knot. Stiles didn’t want to admit how much he’d fucking fantasied at this point, but seriously, some chick on online was offering to buy this thing for him (which he _mayormaynothavealreadyconsideredbuyingbecausehewasasicksonofabitch_ ). So, one week later with express shipping, and he could official add the hashtag for _knotting_ into his profile. Stiles was insanely popular, and raking in the cash.

Everything was going smoothly. He made it clear that no wolves were to interrupt him during certain times, claiming he had a designated “Stiles Time,” during which he did his homework, or his gaming. This seemed to go down well with everyone, but he wasn’t an idiot. He always made sure to draw the blinds and put up an ash barrier. 

But then people (see; Derek) started getting suspicious of how much cash he had when he started showing them cool new magic books that were like 500 years old, and the awesome new herbs he’d special ordered from across the globe. Stiles assures them they can fuck off about his money, he just has some shit going on on the internet. He doesn’t try to lie about it, since that would be obviously be an effort in vain.

Derek, inevitably, being the stupid alpha asshole he is, senses the slightest hint of a lie where none of the betas could tell. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, Stiles. What the fuck are you doing.” Predictably, it’s not a question. And predictably again, Derek has his alpha pants on and his glaring at him with those stupid eyebrows all like ‘what the fuck, Stiles.’

And Stiles, because he knows a losing battle when he sees one, turns it around on him. “Look, I’m not going to tell you the truth, so I won’t bother coming up with lies. This money is helping me become an awesome sparkly magical girl like from an anime, and these _archaic tomes of arcane knowledge_ don’t exactly run cheap. Plus, I’m planning on making a mystical garden of questionable herbs in my backyard, and questionable herbs ain’t cheap either.”

***

So Stiles continues his _thing_ (is there an appropriate name for this?), enjoying the attention at some basic psychological level, considering how ignored he’s been in favour of all the stupidly beautiful wolves in his life. So what if he’s underaged and committing felonies out the ass. At least he’s getting paid to do it. 

And then one night it all goes to shit.

Or at least he thinks it does. 

He’s worked himself up into a lather with the giant black knotted dildo tucked up so neatly inside him, on his hands and his knees with his head purposefully out of shot, and he does a quick check on the live chat he has running through a feed on his phone in front of him so that he can see what requests he’s getting for the big finale when he sees a new entrant into the livestream.

_Sourwolf88._

He literally pauses. Just tenses up, fight or flight reflex kicking in as the name registers. He’s immediately spammed by the others in the chat, telling him to _hurry up and fuck urself on dat nice big cock_ and he can’t fucking breathe. It’s like a panic attack but a million times worse because he’s on camera with a giant dildo stuck in his ass.

Then logic reasserts himself, because _Sourwolf88_ cannot be Derek, because Derek doesn’t know what the internet is, and definitely does not watch porn. Let alone twink porn you have to pay for. With knotting.

Holy fucking shit. 

Stiles tries to get over himself, finishes himself off the best he can, tries to coach himself, trying desperately to regain his swagger, and types a quick apology for the slight issue before shutting it _all the fuck down._

As the laptop slams shut where it was sitting on his desk, recording him on the bed, he feels numb.

There’s no way.

 _I mean, come on._ Of course people are going to have wolf related names, looking at some kinky knotting video. This isn’t the first lupine pun he’s read; some of them are even more cringe-worthy. But _jesus._

***

Stiles tries to put it out of his head, and continues for another couple of weeks with his Wednesday showcase (it’s statistically proven that little to no supernatural shit goes down on Wednesday, so he feels fine taking this as a holiday from shenanigans.) 

It’s going swimmingly enough; he still has his street cred on his site, and is in the middle of a provocative strip tease when he hears the chime of another person having entered the chat.

Stiles is rocking in a pair of cute frilly-laced red panties that cup him just right, pulled taut across his sharp hipbones. A pair of matching stockings cling to the smooth skin of his thighs, held up by a garter belt that draws attention to just how long his pretty legs really are. He’s just shimmied seductively out of the _waytooshort_ schoolgirl skirt when he looks up at the screen, eyes shadowed by the low hanging red hood that is the source of his _moniker._

 

His face spasms when he sees the daunting _Sourwolf88_ pop up, but he immediately hardens his resolve. That isn’t Derek. He will keep on keeping on and do his shit, because he has been blessed by the twink gods and the world loves him. (well, more like 40-odd weirdo pseudo-pedophiles love him, but hey, he’ll take what he can get). So Stiles continues with his little strip tease, leaving the garter on but slipping off only the panties, so that his cock brushes against it, smearing precum over the soft red lace.

He leans over the keyboard and asks for some requests, letting them get a good look at his chest. 

Among the typical lewd responses like _‘give me ur address, i promise ill rim u real gud’_ and _'I wud spank u til dat ass is red’_ which Stiles ignores, there are a couple of actual propositions.

 _Put on your nipple clamps._ Good grammar, proper spelling and punctuation, if a little bossy. A man after his own heart. Of course, it has to be _Sourwolf88._ Stiles huffs a bit, and bends down to retrieve them off his bedspread, and teasingly puts them on, allowing a little smirk to pull at the slim visibility of his lips where they stretch obscenely around his red ball gag.

_Now take out your gag and show me if your mouth is even useful. I want to see you take that werewolf cock you’re so fond of._

Stiles’ heart flutters. He’s never done this on camera before, mainly because he’s too afraid of people seeing his face. But he’s practiced. Oh fuck has he ever. He has an oral fixation and he’s not going to deny it. And of course it would be _Sourwolf88_ again who suggests it. With shaking fingers he reaches behind his head and starts undoing the clasp for the gag, and the chat is flashing manically. People offering their own cocks, telling him to choke on it, that they want to fuck that pretty little mouth.

_Do it. I know you want to._

Stiles is achingly hard and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. He turns to grab the specified dildo and angles the camera of his macbook so that he can sit in the computer chair comfortably without worrying about the angle showing too much. He presses the fake cock to his lips, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. He’s already breathing heavily.

_There’s a reason you like keeping your mouth full._

Stiles whimpers, and moves to mouth down the cock, almost slipping up before catching a glimpse of himself on the screen. He angles away, and works the tip into his mouth. His eyes flash to the chat on the side of the screen. He ignores everyone, waiting for that familiar handle to come up again.

_Take more._

It’s terse, sharp and commanding and Stiles can’t help but think about Derek, about his _Alpha_ telling him what to do. He’d always liked to rebel, but secretly he’d always wanted to submit to the older man. Fuck. He takes more into his mouth, gradually, because _jesus_ this is thick. He usually practiced on the smaller dildos he had. He’s barely halfway when another message pings up.

_You think I’d let you take your time? I’d shove my cock down your throat and make you take it. You can do better than that._

Stiles moans. Fuck, if this isn’t Derek. He feels his cheeks flare with heat, want, and embarrassment for thinking of his alpha like that, but part of him just wants to please, wants to do what he’s told, so he pushes his mouth down until his lips brush the knot. He can’t stop the fluttering in his throat as he works against his gag reflex, can’t stop the saliva that’s slipping out around the cock, sliding down his chin. He feels obscene. He trails a hand down to touch himself, because he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last.

_Did I say you could touch yourself?_

Stiles whimpers, stilling sharply before drawing his hand away.

_Now fuck your mouth with it._

Shuddering, Stiles complies, pushing and pulling the cock and watching his distended lips drag up and down the terrifying length of it. He can’t believe he’s managed to fit it inside of him; can’t believe he can take it in his mouth.

_Would you let me knot your mouth? Would you let me cum down your throat and make you choke on it?_

Stiles is whining constantly now, his hands twitching with the need to touch himself, but he won’t.

_I bet you’d love it. You’d take it all and ask for more like the good little bitch you are. I’d cover you with my cum, force you to swallow it, and then I’d fuck into your ass and breed you until you couldn’t possibly take anymore._

Stiles feels his heart stutter to a halt in his chest, his throat tightens with want, and, beyond all belief, he can feel his balls draw up and his cock twitch, the pooling heat in his belly like an inferno as he stops breathing and just loses his mind. He’s coming, uncontrollably. It fucking rips out of him and he’s _ruined._

_Fuck._

His whole body is shaking, and he barely manages to pull the dildo out of his mouth with a sloppy _pop_ , throwing it heedlessly on the desk. He feels destroyed, and only barely passes a cursory glance back at the chat out of a fatalistic _need._

_I don’t think I told you that you could cum. But then, you’ve never been very good at listening, have you?_

Stiles feels cold, even as his body flushes, and his cock gives a twitch that humiliates him. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to stop anything embarrassing from coming out.

_But you’re going to listen now, aren’t you._

It’s not a question. Stiles nods without thinking, eyes fixed on the chat, ignoring the constant stream of the other viewers clamouring for his attention.

_You’re going to shut your computer down. You’re going to break the barrier. And then you’re going to get onto your hands and knees on your bed and wait for me to come and punish you. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to cum. But you’re going to have to beg for it._

_I’ll be there in 5._

“Oh, my God.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally gets what he deserves.
> 
> But so does Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your reviews! Like I said, I meant for it to be a one shot because I'm terrible at finishing things, but I felt bad for leaving you all hanging. So with the power of your friendship I wrote 3000ish words of porn? With little tidbits of feels. It turned out unexpectedly feel-y.
> 
> I'm so sorry.
> 
> Please mind the new tags!

**Chapter 2**

Derek wasn't pissed.

Something as fucking mundane as _pissed_ did not even begin to cover the amount of boiling, seething, _blinding_ rage, which, shockingly, only Stiles could bring out in him.

Pissed was Derek's default, reserved for his betas being typically stupid; an everyday life event, and he had definitely transcended that, the moment he had _confirmed_ that it was, in fact, a stupid 17 year old boy _in his pack_ who was flaunting his illegal ass over the internet for cash.

The alpha was learning, slowly, what it was to keep a cool head. He _hadn't_ just jumped to conclusions when Stiles started rolling in cash, despite his blatant refusal to admit where he was getting it from. He'd given him the benefit of the doubt.

He'd even gone so far as to respect the appointed Wednesday "Stiles Time" agreement. Despite how outrageously suspicious it was for Stiles to set up a fucking _mountain ash barrier_ every goddamn week.

And when, after coming across, on the internet, _completely by chance_ , a website that had the exact type of porn he was looking for, he hadn't leapt to conclusions about who was spreading their legs on the screen, opening themselves up with familiar looking fingers, dripping with lube and thrashing as they came all over themselves, cock untouched, gag in mouth, whimpers too distorted to place.

He. Hadn't. Assumed.

Barely.

He may have broken a few of the IKEA chairs his betas had forced him to buy.

No great loss.

But then he'd investigated Stiles' room. While the boy was out.

He was the boy's alpha. He would damn well look out for the kid, even if that meant gross invasions of privacy.

And while he'd expected to find what he'd found, all the toys, the clothes, the _gag_ , it didn't make it any less _soul crushingly infuriating_.

Because Stiles was his fucking _mate_.

And Derek had been so fucking _good_.

Because he was tired of being bad. Tired of fucking up his betas lives. Tired of making Stiles hurt because of how he had to lie to his dad on their behalf. So he'd decided to wait. To let Stiles have at least one aspect of normalcy in his fucked up _childhood_.

The way Derek wished he'd had.

But Derek realised something, in that moment, wolfed out in Stiles' room, nose filled with the scent of sex that lingered on the boy's sheets, making him salivate and _want_.

Derek wasn't good. Clearly he couldn't afford to be, either.

* * *

o0o0o 

Watching Stiles one last time on the internet was an exercise in the purest form of masochism for Derek.

Part of him didn't understand it; his most basic physiological and psychological need was to get on top of Stiles, mount him, scent him, and claim him. An aspect which had been suppressed far too long, and like a dam breaking, it was nigh impossible to hold back.

But another part of him, one he was even less willing to admit to, liked it.

It made his blood run with heat and anger, made him feel ready for a hunt and a chase. Knowing Stiles was his unwitting prey?

That got Derek off like nothing else.

So taunting the boy one last time, watching the visible sliver of his face when the boy finally _realised_. Keen, smug pleasure raced through Derek at having gotten the better of the smartass littler fucker. He thought he was better than his alpha, smarter, that he could _hide_ things.

Derek was going to make it painfully clear that that shit was no longer going to be tolerated. He was Stiles' alpha, his mate, and the boy _would_ submit himself to him.

And Derek was going to make him like it.

Maybe.

If he was lucky.

* * *

 o0o0o

Stiles was so fucking _wet_.

Derek paused just inside of the boys window, eyes caught on the slick, faintly shimmering slick that was smeared all over the smooth skin of his inner thighs and ass as Stiles held himself up on his hands and knees, just like Derek had told him to.

His mouth opened, eyes reddening as the scent that he'd been able to follow from miles back hit him fully. He could fucking _taste_ Stiles on his tongue, could taste the smell of his arousal. It was sharp, spicy, and it was driving him fucking crazy.

He had his mouth pressed against the slick heat of Stiles' dripping ass in seconds. His tongue was already pressing in before Stiles could even register his presence.

Moans shook the boy's body as Derek began to eat him out hungrily, not caring for the taste of his lube, but enjoying how the sharp rake of his stubble against Stiles' hot skin was making the boy shudder and try to twist away.

"Fuck, Derek! Give a guy a little warning, please?" Stiles breathed out, collapsing into his pillow as Derek yanked his hips back, thumbs pulling apart his cheeks as he nuzzled closer and bit and licked at the slick skin between them.

"I gave you a five minute warning." He commented off hand when he pulled back to lick a devastating line from across his perineum up to the base of his spine, giving a lingering bit to the sensitive skin there.

Stiles hissed and squirmed, his legs shaking as he tried to decide between pushing back onto his tongue and crawling away because he was going to come and he wasn't going to be able to stop himself if Derek kept at him like a starving man.

He was close to tears by the time Derek pressed a dry finger to his dripping hole.

"Fuck, no. Stop, please, I fucking _can't_." He gasped out. His eyes were wet, tears catching on his lashes, making them clump together. "I'm gonna' come if you keep doing that."

Derek pulled back, looking down to where Stiles had his face half pressed into his pillow, his face flushed, eyes closed and mouth panting out gasping breaths. His lips were so very red, still puffy from when he'd taken the dildo earlier.

It occurred to him that he hadn't even kissed the boy yet, and he'd already rimmed him until he was crying.

Taking firm hold of the boy's slim hips, he flipped him over. Stiles' eyes flashed open, going hungry for a moment where they traced over Derek's arms and shoulders, and Derek could tell that Stiles liked it when he manhandled him. But it was always best to double check.

"Do you want me to hold you down and fuck you?" He asked casually, finally taking the time to pull of his shirt. He threw it to the floor, grey-green-blue eyes hyper aware of Stiles' face, watching the way he flushed and licked his lips at the sight of Derek's exposed skin.

"What was your first clue?" Stiles scoffed, stretching out languidly on the bed, legs spreading in nothing less than an invitation. "You have the nose of a bloodhound. I'm sure you've been able to smell how badly I want you from day one."

Derek shrugs. "You don't have the first clue of what you're asking for." But he's already pulling down the zip to his jeans.

Stiles laughs, rolling his eyes. "You seriously think I'm that stupid? I know way more than your betas do about mating. I know you do it for life. Forgive me for not being insensitive enough ask you for your knot outright." Only this boy could sass him in with an imminent fucking ahead of him. It was part of the reason Derek wanted him so badly. He needed this kind of challenge.

"So then you know what'll happen if I fuck you? What I'll need from you?" Derek demands, serious. His eyes fix on Stiles, and find the boys own amber just as hard and clear as usual.

"Yeah..." Stiles whispers, pushing himself up so he's right in Derek's space. "I'll be yours." He says against Derek's lips, and then he's pressing in with his soft, bruised mouth and hesitant tongue, hands coming round to clasp the back of Derek's neck and slide into his hair as he opens up completely for Derek, mouth hot and yielding; Derek takes the submission and fucks into Stiles' mouth with his own tongue, claiming it. He bites at the bow of Stiles' upper lip as he pulls away, feeling Stiles' sudden hesitance.

"I didn't think you wanted me." Stiles states softly, looking away from Derek, unsure.

"I do." Derek grips Stiles' chin, forcing the boy to look at him. "And you won't just be mine. I'll be yours."

Stiles smiles softly for a moment, before it turns into something more mischievous, "You're such a fucking sap. Who knew sourwolf here could be so romantic?"

Derek growls, pressing Stiles down into the bed as he gives a small surprised laugh.

Stiles' looks up at him, thick lashes framing his beautiful eyes, his lips still turned up in pleasure as he bares himself, arms above his head, neck exposed and legs framing Derek's thighs.

The alpha's breath catches.

"Trust me, I'm not going to be romantic when I fuck you. I don't think I can hold back anymore." He can feel the wolf under his skin, pushing at him to mark, fuck, and claim. He's about to give in.

"But Derek... its my first time..." Stiles says in a hushed voice, eyes wide and innocent.

Derek's own eyes go red, and he's growling even as Stiles' drops the act and snickers a bit. The boy isn't lying.

"Stiles." Derek warns.

"If I wanted it gentle, you think I'd be fucking an alpha? Just take me, you brute." Stiles taunts, and yes, this is why he needed Stiles.

So Derek just lets go.

His mouth is hot against the column of Stiles' throat, tasting the sweetness and the salt of his skin, feeling the thunder of his pulse and the gasping of his breath as sucks and bites, lapping at the soft tender flesh until it's livid and red and _perfect._

His teeth rasp against Stiles' collar bone, dragging down his smooth chest to press against his reddened nipples, already so abused by the clamps he'd made the boy wear earlier. He takes them between his teeth and _pulls_ , loving the sound of Stiles' keening and pitched breaths as he aches under him. He laves at it, hot and eager with a flat tongue before moving to press against the other nipple, tracing it teasingly with the tip of his tongue, eyes watching Stiles' face as he writhes on the bed, hands tangled in the sheets and legs kicking.

"I need to come, you don't understand." Stiles pleads. "I might actually come just from my nipples if you don't stop."

Derek quirks a brow, and a predatory grin passes across his face.

"Fuck nooo, I wasn't serious! I was lying. Please, please, please don't make me come like this!" Stiles begs, eyes wide and pleading.

Derek just smirks, and leans down again to catch one between his teeth. He brings his free hand up to drag a flat palm across Stiles' other nipples before pressing his thumb sharp against it, catching the bud with his nail as he bites viciously at the other. He can feel Stiles' pulse rocket, and pushes down with his own torso as Stiles' rocks off the bed. The boy's cock is hard against Derek's abdomen, twitching and wet, dripping with precum. He pinches and licks and sucks and bites, waiting Stiles out as the boy's cries get increasingly louder, his body shaking with the strain of a delayed orgasm, until finally he gives out, shuddering hard against Derek, chest heaving as he sucks in gasping breaths between sobs as his dick finally shoots ropes of cum across both their bellies.

The smell of him riles Derek, reminding him of just how fucking _badly_ he needed to fuck this boy. Stiles is still coming down, eyes closed, lashes fanned out across his cheekbones, mouth obscene where its open and gasping.

His eyes shoot open when Derek abruptly presses two fingers into him.

"Fuck!" Stiles yelps, clenching down in reaction against the invasion. Derek is busily lapping away at the cum that covers Stiles' stomach, eagerly pumping his fingers in and out of Stiles' slick, wet heat as the boy finally relaxes. His tongue is pressed into Stiles' navel, making the boy jump and gasp with each swipe as he collects the cum on his tongue, his stubbled chin catching against the flushed head of his spent cock where it lays against Stiles' stomach.

Adding a third finger, Derek presses his mouth against Stiles' cock, mouthing at it, tongue slipping out to run over the exposed head of the boy's circumcised cock, and before the boy can so much as protest, sucks it down into his throat.

Stiles bucks, wild for a moment as he shouts, insensate. His hands come down to clutch at Derek's head, trying to pull him off as he hisses and gasps at the warm vacuum of Derek's mouth around his twitching dick. Derek simply gives a warning growl, glaring up at the boy until he drops his hands.

"Dude, I know teens are supposed to have a low refractory period but this is fucking ridiculous and it kind of really fucking _hurts_." He whines, tossing his head back onto the pillow as his abdomen clenches, feeling his balls tighten and cock harden despite himself. Derek can smell the tears in his eyes again. He sucks harder.

"Fuuuuck." Stiles' legs come up on either side of Derek's head as the man relentlessly sucks him down, fingering him at a more and more brutal pace.

When the alpha's fingers finally start to drag against his prostate Stiles dies.

"I hate you _so_ much right now." He whimpers, barely breathing as his vision flares. He can feel the heat of another orgasm pooling in his belly, his legs are tensing and his heart feels like its going to explode and there are tears streaming unchecked down his face.

And then Derek pulls off.

Completely.

Like, no more mouth on dick; fingers no longer fingering; body not pressed between thighs.

"I'm going to cry." Stiles gasps, back arched up painfully as his body tried to follow Derek when he'd pulled away. "And then I'm going to fucking _kill you_."

Derek just smirks, endlessly amused at how riled Stiles can get. He admires the line of Stiles' body where its still pulled tight, close to breaking. His cock is flushed and twitching desperately tight against his stomach.

Derek finally pulls his own cock from the confines of his black boxer briefs, watching as Stiles' wet eyes catch on it and widen. The way the breath leaves his body. Derek's smirk widens.

"Oh aren't you fucking full of yourself, Mr. Big Wolf Dick. Sorry to tell you, but I've had _bigger_." Stiles asserts, gesturing to where the thick black werewolf dildo was still laying on his computer desk.

Derek is actually affronted. "You know this isn't as big as it gets, right?"

Stiles actually looks a little lost for words, but the scent of his spiking arousal confirms that he is more than alright with that idea.

"Whatever. Now, as much as I like your pretty face, I'd really like to be on my hands and knees." Stiles picks up, already rolling onto his front as he finally regains control after having his orgasm torn away from him. He looks back at Derek saucily over his shoulder as he pushes his ass out.

"Hop to it, lover boy, we don't have all night."

Derek can only smile helplessly, covering Stiles with his own bigger body, planting a sloppy kiss on Stiles' smiling lips. He loves how easily Stiles fits under him.

"You're awfully bossy for a bitch." Derek comments, giving Stiles exactly no chance for a witty rejoinder before pressing his cock into the welcoming heat of his mates body.

His _mate's_.

"I-resent-that!" Stiles bites out as Derek begins to pound into him. It's moments before Stiles' arms buckle under the strain of trying to keep up with Derek. Only the alpha's harsh grip on Stiles' hips keep him from sliding into the headboard. All the boy can do is brace his arms against the dark wood and curse into the sheets and Derek bears down into him.

Derek buries his face into Stiles' neck, mouth and nose full of the boy's scent as he finally claims him. His stubble rasps against the sensitive skin, his teeth drag and nip and bite, his tongue soothes. He presses his cheek to the boy's soft skin, desperate to press his own scent into him, to finally mark him more closely than just pack. He's going to make Stiles _reek_ of him.

"You're so fucking good for me, Stiles." He groans into the boy's ear. Stiles' ass is taking him so perfectly, so hot and wet and _good_. He never wants to stop fucking him.

"You're not so bad yourself, Derek." Stiles tries sarcasm, but it doesn't work as well when he's literally having the words fucked out of him. He can hear the boy's laboured breathing, the hitches in his heartbeat, and he can smell just down close he is to coming again. "Fuck yesssss! Right there!"

Derek pounds into him, dragging his cock against the boy's prostate, feeling it as the boy shakes apart underneath him.

"Derek please, I need to come, I need-I fucking _need_ it." Stiles is sobbing again, and it makes Derek that much hotter.

"Do it, Stiles. I want to feel it." Derek soothes, fucking in harder, holding him tighter.

And Stiles does. He cries out into the pillow, cut off and sharp and broken as his inner walls clench so fucking tight around Derek that he needs to cry out himself. He can smell Stiles' cum, looks down and sees the half of Stiles' turned face where he's so fucking gone with it.

His teeth sink into Stiles' shoulder as he climaxes, his cock sucked deeper by Stiles' grasping walls. They milk at him through his orgasm, clenching so hard against his growing knot that Derek growls into the pain of it.

Stiles' breathing hitches as he feels the knot begin to swell, and then suddenly the boy is limp, letting Derek fill him up and stretch him so fucking wide so he can pump the boy full of his cum, to wash him in Derek's scent.

"You're so fucking perfect, taking it from me, taking my knot." He whispers, legitimately reverent. Kate had never taken his knot, had asked him not to do it to her. But Stiles, fucking Stiles-

"I love you." It's a whisper against the sheets, wet and tired but perfect. A small smile is turning up the side of Stiles' lips, and Derek's breath is caught, his eyes fixed on the side of Stiles' face. His own heartbeat shudders. His cock flares more, causing Stiles to gasp.

But he smells happy.

"Stiles... fuck." He fits himself along the bowed line of Stiles' body, cupping his face in his hands as he kisses his lips as tenderly as he can. "I love you, too."

"Good, because you're _totally_ carrying me to the shower after this, because that is a lot of fucking cum." Stiles demands, and Derek can do nothing but smile.

"You like it." He points out, pressing his hand to the flat of Stiles' stomach, wondering if he would be able to feel the slight swelling of so much cum. Stiles' hand joins his, fingers pressed together.

"Fuck, yeah." Stiles mutters, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the feeling of the hot seed flooding into his body from Derek's knot. "You think you can keep it up for a second round?"

Derek snorts, disbelieving. "You're a kinky little shit."

"Your kinky little shit now." Stiles says, nonchalant, relaxing further into the bed as Derek shift them to their sides. "I hope you like fisting."

Derek can only sigh, pressing his face into Stiles' hair, breathing deeply, enjoying at some baser level how their scents have finally mingled. Their hands are still locked together, just as their bodies are.

"I hope you like spanking." Derek counters, drawing a tired laugh from Stiles.

"Are you saying that a harmless angel like me might deserve a _spanking_?" Stiles demands, mockingly offended.

"Well, we still haven't discussed the punishment for that shit you pulled on the internet." Derek points out in a dangerously flat tone.

"Spanking it is, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. 
> 
> Real talk now, this verse is over for me. On to mermaid!Stiles. Probably. If I get around to finishing it?
> 
> All typos and grammar fails are mine (I am so terrible at typing you don't understand), so please, if you noticed an error, let me know! I'll fix it so that future readers don't have to cringe at my failures.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who's interested, the werewolf dildo Stiles makes use of comes from the Bad Dragon sex-toy site; yes, it exists! 
> 
> This work was heavily inspired by a similar story from the Inception fandom, namely an Arthur/Eames fic "I Turn My Camera On" by lezzerlee at http://archiveofourown.org/works/258213 . Thank you calla_haa for reminding me.
> 
> Should anyone care, I have a personal tumblr at http://nothing-left-sacred.tumblr.com/ and I welcome you to it. I'd love to get to know the fandom!
> 
>  


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